| Monuments |
Boris Ekimov
BY THE WARM SEA
Crimea. The seaside village of Koktebel is a famous place. On the right are the huge mountains of Karadag, the Holy Mountain, on the left are the sloping hills of the steppe Crimea.
Autumn. Mid September. The holiday season is ending. The sea still breathes warmth and turns a gentle blue. The sun is shining hot during the day. The evenings are already cool and it gets dark quickly in the south. But people relaxing under the roof do not like to sit, and therefore on the embankment, along its short length, which has long been called “Piglet”, idle people from all over the village gather. They stroll lazily and talk. Along the banks of this quiet human river, on the granite parapet, on benches, near the green ivy of the veranda, the people trading laid out and arranged their goods. They sell everything. Crimean souvenirs made from sea shells; dried crabs; bracelets, beads, candlesticks made of fragrant Crimean juniper wood; all kinds of paintings: watercolors, canvases, on which, of course, Crimean, Koktebel landscapes: Karadag, Mount Chameleon, Golden Gate rock. There are many products made from Koktebel stone: carnelian, chalcedony, opal, jasper, agate. Rings, earrings, pendants, brooches, hairpins. Souvenir ceramics: elegant amphorae, bells, ashtrays, bowls. And even some “shmyndriks” appeared this fall. There weren't any before. And now I look - it says “shmyndriki”. Standing in rows are funny clay and painted people who are not people, animals who are not animals - in a word, shmyndriks.
This is not a bazaar, but a vernissage, Koktebel Montmartre. Craftsmen, artists... Idle people walk around, look at it, marvel at it, buy it as a souvenir.
Meanwhile it gets dark. But people don't leave. Warmth blows from the sea, the splash of waves can be heard. Walks well. Let's stay home for a while longer in the winter. Nowadays it is freedom.
There are many familiar faces here. They are from year to year. Pointillist artist Igor, shaggy and bearded. For many years he has been surprising people with a white canvas of a painting he has begun with two or three dots. A handsome young mulatto, sitting alone on the parapet, turned away from the people towards the sea, as if it was not he who opened the suitcase with stone brooches for sale. But Rurik is no longer there, he died. And the famous “House of Rurik”, above the cliff, has now burned down and gone to its owner. Some leave, others appear.
This fall, an old woman appeared at the Koktebel “Piglet” with bouquets of dried herbs. Every evening she settled down on the edge of the “Piglet” with a not very impressive product: dry wormwood and a few simple flowers, from those that grow around. Something yellow and lilac.
“Hang it on the wall,” she convinces rare curious people. - Hang it up, it will smell so good.
But for some reason I didn’t see her products being taken. Nearby are rings and earrings with carnelian, jasper brooches, landscapes with the sea and the moon. If you bring it home, it will be a memory. Every person will understand: this is Crimea. What about dry wormwood? There is enough of it everywhere.
An old woman in a dark scarf and a shabby coat sits alone on the edge of the autumn, but still festive Crimean vernissage, sometimes explaining:
- Hang it on the wall... It smells so good.
Autumn. It gets dark quickly. Lanterns are now rare. They say that there is nothing and no one to pay for them. It's time for ruin. Twilight "Piglet" is narrowing. The first to disappear is the old woman. She had not left yet, but somehow faded away, merging with the gray granite and dark asphalt. People are still walking and wandering, looking at souvenirs and paintings illuminated by lanterns. An old woman is in the darkness, hunched over, near the already invisible bunches of wormwood. Then she disappears completely.
After my arrival, a day passed, then two, then three. Everything was fine, everything was nearby: the sea and the mountains, the road through the deserted hills and down, along the very shore to the Dead and Quiet bays, a long climb to the top, from where a spacious view opens up for many kilometers - not only to the sea, but also towards the mountains , into the valleys. There the lilac twilight thickens early in the evening. Once upon a time I walked there, through the mountains, to the Old Crimea. Now I look, I remember Lermontov’s: “The quiet valleys are full of fresh darkness... Wait a little, you too will rest...” No, these are not poems and thoughts about death. It's just about peace.
In a word, things are good in Crimea, in Koktebel. Although times are different, noisy. Along the embankment there are numerous birdhouse shops with brightly colored labels and wrappers, cafes, kebab shops, and snack bars. Gray smoke, screaming music until the morning, at night sometimes the roar of firecrackers or shots, mountains of garbage, packs of stray dogs everywhere. But what remained were the sea, the sky, the mountains, the steppe; their silence, the murmur of the waves, the rustle of the grass - in a word, the main thing.
And in the evenings there is a noisy “Piglet” from the veranda shaded by wild grapes to the Voloshin Museum. Walking, talking, hustle. Interesting trinkets on the parapet and trays. Look at something, buy something. Whether for yourself, family or friends as a gift.
Everything is great. And only the old woman with bouquets of wormwood worried me for some reason. She was so out of place with her appearance: a shabby coat, a dark dress, old age, and with her pitiful, useless bouquets. In the evenings, she sat hunched over and alone on a bench at the very edge of Piglet. She was superfluous at this autumn, but still a holiday on the seashore.
Immediately, on the first or second day, of course, I bought a bouquet of wormwood from her, after hearing: “Hang it on the wall... It will smell so good.” I bought it as if I had repaid a debt. But that didn't make it any easier. Of course, she didn’t come here from a good life. He sits, then drags himself home in the darkness. My old mother usually goes to bed before the sun has set. She says she's tired. After all, I’m really tired: such a long life. And such a long summer day is for an old man.
Old people... How many of them are now with outstretched hands! And this one, on the shore of the warm sea. Apparently he doesn’t want to beg. Although they would have given her a lot more than what she would get for her pitiful dry twigs and flowers. But he doesn’t want to ask. Is sitting...
A day passed, then another, then a third. The Crimean summer was dying out: sunny days, warm sea, blue sky, the last roses, bright flower beds of orange and yellow marigolds, multi-colored zinnias, fragrant petunias, green trees. In Moscow it’s slushy, cold and even snowing, but here it’s summer. During the day it’s good, in the evening it’s nice to walk along the embankment, stand on the pier near the fishermen waiting for the autumn arrival of fish.
And every evening there was an old woman sitting alone near bouquets of dry wormwood.
But one day, going out to the embankment, I saw that a couple was sitting next to the old woman, on her bench: a bearded man was on the edge of the bench, on the fly, smoking peacefully, and his wife or girlfriend was chatting animatedly with the old woman. A dry bouquet in hand, some words about the benefits of wormwood and all sorts of other plants. And conversations “about benefits” are very attractive.
Here, not far away, a respectable man who day in and day out quickly sells dried herbs and roots, clearly labeling each one: “from the head,” “from the heart,” “from insomnia,” “from oncology.” They buy in full.
So, near the old woman, near her bouquets, having heard something “about the benefits,” they began to stop. It's evening, the day is drawing to a close, there are no worries. It's time to talk about the benefits. They talk and, I see, they buy. It's a cheap matter.
I looked, was glad, and slowly walked on my way. And my soul somehow became calmer. Otherwise it’s like a thorn.
The next evening - the same picture: women talking, a bearded man calmly smoking next to him. I hear they call the old lady by her first name and patronymic. So, we met. This is completely good.
The days passed. Although long, the Crimean summer was ending. They complain that this year it was stormy: in August there was continuous rain and cold. It got warmer in September. But autumn is slowly creeping in from the north. It's bad weather in Kyiv. Will get here soon. And therefore every day is a joy: the sea, the mountains, the warmth. How can we not rejoice, because winter is ahead, we will still get cold. Here we go...
In the last days of September it became sharply cold. It rained, the sea was stormy for a day, and the water became winter-cold. The people were leaving, the embankment and the entire village were emptying before our eyes. Cafes and restaurants were closing. The music died down. And it was time for me to leave. Another day or two - and goodbye.
Before leaving, in the last days, you somehow feel everything acutely, you see it. And even though you know that you came for a short time and probably not for the last time, it still feels like it’s pinching your soul. Still, it’s good here: the sea, its smell, the waves splashing, the mountains nearby. Peace.
One of the last evenings I saw both an old woman with dried flowers and her new friends. The latter, apparently, were leaving. The man was writing something down on a piece of paper. Probably the address.
The next day - thunderstorm, downpour, then drizzling. And by evening it was as if everything had been washed away: summer, people on vacation, the noisy “Piglet” on the embankment, Koktebel’s Montmartre. I went out in the evening - no one. And my old lady, of course, is not there.
But then, on that last Crimean evening, and now, far from Koktebel, I remember the old woman without bitterness and sadness. There were some kind people who sat near her and talked. What else does an old man need? Now she is hibernating and waiting for spring. Like all of us, sinners, we are waiting for warmth, whether heavenly or earthly. Anything will help.
The eastern coast of Crimea is perhaps the most romantic place on the entire peninsula. Everything here awakens imagination and fantasy: mysterious grottoes, transparent blue bays, majestic mountains and wild cliffs. It is here that you can enjoy the finest bouquet of legendary cognacs and wines, taste champagne from the cellars of Prince Golitsyn. Any of the names of this part of Crimea is associated with ancient history and numerous legends. Koktebel, Sudak, New World, Feodosia... However, in addition to this, the Eastern coast of Crimea attracts people with less hot summers than in other parts of the peninsula, wonderful conditions for swimming, picturesque wooded areas and plenty of space for walking.
One of the significant advantages of the Eastern Coast of Crimea over the South Coast is the absence of sea currents off the coast and dry air. The climate here is close to the Mediterranean - surprisingly mild and without sudden temperature changes, and breezes help you easily endure the summer heat. The beaches in these places are sand and gravel with small shell rock.
One of the pearls of the Eastern coast of Crimea is without a doubt Koktebel. According to one version, the name is translated very romantically as “land of blue hills.”
The exact time of the appearance of this wonderful village is unknown. True, in ancient sources there is a mention of a certain settlement Atheneon, which was supposed to be located in the Koktebel area, but archaeological evidence of this fact was not found. However, it is reliably known that until the turn of the 9th-10th centuries there was a large semi-urban Christian settlement in these places - the remains of a basilica, smaller churches, and residential buildings are known. Then it was destroyed by the Pechenegs, and then, at the end of the 12th century, it was revived again, presumably by the Venetians. Afterwards, these lands were taken over by the Genoese, and after them by the Bulgarians.
In the 19th century, after the zemstvo reform of Alexander II, the village, already bearing the name Koktebel, was assigned to the Taraktash volost, and soon after that it turned into a popular vacation spot, including for people of art. The poet and artist Maximilian Voloshin played a special role in the development of Koktebel. Many artists, writers and poets visited his dacha at different times. After the poet’s death, his widow continued to receive guests in the house, and in the late 1930s, Voloshin’s dacha was transformed into the Koktebel House of Writers’ Creativity, which still exists today.
In 1956, construction of the Primorye boarding house began in Koktebel. Enthusiasts and romantics have transformed the wild wasteland, turning it into a cozy corner where people now enjoy the gentle sea, the generous warmth of the Crimean sun, and breathe deeply in the life-giving mountain-steppe and sea air.
Crimea. The seaside village of Koktebel is a famous place. On the right are the huge mountains of Karadag, the Holy Mountain, on the left are the sloping hills of the steppe Crimea.
Composition
In our social world, in which any person at the level of needs needs support and understanding of his neighbor, it is very important for each of us to experience goodwill, compassion and love for all people, especially for those who need it. In the text I read, B. Ekimov invites the reader to think about the current problem of mercy.
The narrator reveals the problem using an example from the life of an old woman, who, by the will of fate, was forced to sell a “bunch of dry herbs” to idle people, who for the most part did not notice either the old woman or what she used to replace the traditional begging. The hero focuses our attention on how unbearably difficult it is for this elderly woman, certainly not from an easy life, to come to the “patch” every day with her “pathetic, useless bouquets” and sit until darkness in the hope that someone will still buy this collection of dry herbs. And the narrator, of course, bought it, but even with this act he could not completely remove from his heart the burden of responsibility for this old woman and for the dozens of long hours that she is forced to spend every day near her bouquets.
B. Ekimov’s position is clear: he believes that each of us should be merciful to others, that is, we should experience sympathy and compassion, care, support and understanding for everyone, especially for those who sincerely need it. Mercy is our spiritual and human duty, and we must always remember this, whether on vacation or at work.
It is impossible not to agree with the opinion of the writer, his position is close to me, and I also believe that our duty, as people and as citizens, is to support, compassion and help our neighbors to the best of our ability, which we most often interpret incorrectly, trying once again not take the initiative. It is important that mercy in us has a level of need; it should be the guarantor of our inner peace.
The problem of mercy in any circumstances is revealed by M.A. Sholokhov using the example of the main character of his story “The Fate of Man.” Even in wartime, Andrei Sokolov, having lost all his loved ones and having gone through a huge number of moral and physical tests, found the strength and courage to save a little boy from starvation, who, due to the will of circumstances, was left without family and friends. Vanyushka needed support, compassion and help - and Andrei gave it to him, in return receiving loyalty, love and the strongest affection of a small, responsive heart.
The heroine of the novel, F.M., also had a truly kind heart. Dostoevsky "Crime and Punishment". Sonya, despite the difficult life situation in which she and her family found themselves, managed to maintain good nature and compassion for everyone around her. She, earning a yellow ticket, helped her family and remained the same good-natured and pure Sonya as all her relatives knew her. Having met Raskolnikov, who at that time was heavily repenting of the murder he had committed and was experiencing terrible pangs of conscience, she understood his situation and selflessly helped him get rid of his torment with her support and love, thereby showing mercy.
In a world in which man rules everything, those in need cannot count on anything other than kindness and humanity. Mercy is our way of making the world kinder and cleaner. In other words, if not us, then who will help a man, child or old woman in trouble cope with their difficulties?
All photographs in this article and all other articles were taken by the author of the site. You can view other photographs and ask questions about purchasing photographs in the section
Eastern Crimea
Sights of the Eastern part of Crimea are the village of Koktebel and the natural reserve Karadag and Feodosia located near it. Fans of literature and writers Green and Paustovsky may want to visit their house-museums in Old Crimea and Green's grave. Novyi Svet and Sudak are nearby, it is convenient to watch them together, living in one of them, Koktebel and Feodosia are also not far from each other, although not so close. Koktebel is located in the middle of the region, making it convenient to travel to all other places while living there. A one-day excursion is enough to explore each place, plus boat excursions past the coast of Karadag and Sudak, each of which takes half a day.
The nature of eastern Crimea is completely different than in the central part, on the southern coast of Crimea, as if in a couple of hours I moved to a completely different country, to a completely different climatic zone. There is no exotic and rich lush vegetation of the southern coast of Crimea, here is a dry steppe and rocky region, completely different, simple plants, not interesting, and in general there is little vegetation, so I personally had some disappointment after the South Coast, I somehow didn’t have beautiful vegetation here enough. Dry steppe and bare rocks - this is eastern Crimea. But the first place, New World, closer to the South Coast, is even different, there is more vegetation there and it is more beautiful, it is a more beautiful and pleasant place than everything else. Of all the places in Crimea, I like Yalta and the New World the most. The further you go to the east, the less greenery and more steppe. But the main attraction of this region is the beautiful cliffs on the coast in the areas of Karadag, Sudak and the New World, and these landscapes are worth coming to see.
Koktebel
Road to Koktebel View of the village of Koktebel from the sea
One of the most famous and popular places in Crimea is, of course, Koktebel, a small seaside village, “where the sea was thrown by the legend of Homer, like a Cimmerian carpet, near Voloshin’s house” (Sergei Narovchatov). Many people strive to visit Koktebel because a romantic image has developed about it under the influence of historical and literary associations, because at the beginning of the 20th century it was the center of Russian creative bohemia, where famous writers, poets, and artists gathered. The center was the legendary house of the poet and artist Maximilian Voloshin, which has survived to this day and is now a house-museum. Marina Tsvetaeva and her future husband Sergei Efron, Gumilev, Bulgakov and many others visited him. When I was there, I liked it so much that I didn’t want to leave, and when the museum was closed, I even asked to stay there, but the museum staff didn’t understand my desire to spend the night with Voloshin. Koktebel was also a center for creative bohemia in Soviet times, when there was a creative house for writers here.
But if Voloshin saw him now, he would hardly want to live here. In my opinion, Koktebel has been spoiled. And I think, not only for me, if you want to see it as a romantic place where you can live in solitude with nature - the way it was in Voloshin’s time, that’s why he settled here. If you just want to see a resort village for a seaside holiday with a beach, cafes, restaurants, discos, a water park, etc. – then you might quite like Koktebel. But those who would like to see in him something more, as Voloshin saw him, may be disappointed by modernity. The Koktebel beach from the village side is completely built up with a solid wall of cafes, so you can’t see nature. Of course, cafes on the beach are needed so that people have somewhere to eat, but not in such quantities. For example, in St. Constantine in Bulgaria, where I live now, there are also cafes on the beaches - there is one on each beach, but not a hundred. There are many discos and nightclubs on the embankment, which make a lot of noise in the evening. The romantic spirit of Koktebel was killed, Koktebel turned into a party place for young people to have fun and take a walk, and not into a romantic place for creative bohemia.
After I was in Koktebel, a water park was built there - the largest in Crimea, which, from my point of view, completely ruined and killed its landscape. Although, of course, this is a plus for vacationers with children, so who cares.
Koktebel village against the backdrop of Mount Karadag
According to some linguists, the word Koktebel is translated from Turkic as: kok - blue, blue, heavenly, tebe - peak, hill, el - edge, country, all together - the country of blue peaks or the edge of blue hills. This beautiful poetic name, of course, is liked by guides and guidebook compilers, who prefer to give this version, but most historians and linguists do not agree with it, and translate this name from Crimean Tatar as “a gray horse with an asterisk on its forehead.” There was also a village in the Crimea with the name Kara-Tobel, which in turn means “a black horse with an asterisk on its forehead, and these two names were the names of the Crimean Tatar clans who lived here.
The exact date of the settlement in this place is unknown. But the first settlement was here until the middle of the 14th century and was founded by the Venetians, who in the middle of the 14th century lost it to the Genoese, and in the 19th century there was a Bulgarian village here, formed by the Bulgarians who fled from the Turkish occupation to Crimea.
In Koktebel, special winds blow and special air currents arise, making this place suitable for hang gliding, and it was in Soviet times and remains to this day the center of this sport, athletes go there specifically for hang gliding.
When Crimea belonged to Ukraine, there was pandemonium on the beach, even if the water was so cold that swimming was impossible. Now that there are fewer vacationers, I think this is not the case. The Koktebel beach has small pebbles, which is a big plus and not so common in Crimea, where most often there are large stones on the shore that are inconvenient to swim on. Also in Koktebel there are often cold currents, their timing is unpredictable, they can come in the summer, and then you can’t swim here, although throughout the rest of Crimea the water is warm. Then you're out of luck. I just found myself at such a time - however, it was already September, but usually in the rest of Crimea you can swim in September. On the outskirts of the village there is a nudist beach.
Actually, in Koktebel itself, apart from the Voloshin house-museum, which is of interest only to literature lovers, there are no attractions and nothing to see - just a small village by the sea, and that’s all - its attraction is the Karadag nature reserve located right on its outskirts. Also near Koktebel there is a winery “Koktebel”, where you can go on a tasting tour - that’s all. But from it you can go to Feodosia, Old Crimea, Sudak and the New World - just as you can go from them to Koktebel.
The number of vacationers in Crimea and the popularity of a place are sometimes explained not so much by its merits as by the degree of its fame and promotion - this is clearly seen in the example of Koktebel. For example, on the other side of Karadag there is another resort village - Kurortnoye, which is also next to Karadag, no worse, from there you can also take an excursion to Karadag, the same view of the landscape of Karadag, the same rocks, a very pleasant place - but little known , and there are few vacationers, because Voloshin and all his friends, famous poets, did not settle there, but on the other side of Karadag in Koktebel - most likely purely by chance, they could have settled here too - and then it would have been the other way around. Here you can calmly relax on a beach that is not crowded, like in Koktebel, but a quiet beach with a small number of people, here heavy buildings do not obscure nature (at least it was like that before, when I was there, maybe it has changed now), it was quieter, calmer and closer to nature and the unspoiled Crimean landscape. True, there were not a large number of discos and nightclubs - but for those who do not need this, this is more of a plus than a minus. And who needs parties, and not silence and nature, will probably be bored - then it’s better to go to Koktebel.
When I was in Koktebel, next to Koktebel on its outskirts there was a tent camp - vacationers with their tents, a whole tent city on the seashore. It looked, in my opinion, disgusting: dirt, garbage, unsanitary conditions. This tent city turned the outskirts of Koktebel into a garbage dump for several kilometers. This is not romance, but a cultureless murder of nature and its beauty, and the destruction of Crimea. I was simply outraged that such disgrace was allowed and the beautiful nature of Crimea was being ruined. I would ban camping in Crimea and impose the most severe punishment for this. I wanted to drive a bulldozer here and crush all these tents along with their inhabitants. Somehow later I saw the same place with tents, only not so large, in another place in Crimea - the result was the same: littered, destroyed nature. I don’t know how it is now – this disgrace still exists or it’s finally been closed down.
restaurants and hotel in Koktebel
Paintings of Koktebel
Karadag
The Karadag Nature Reserve, towering right above the village, is what makes it worth going to Koktebel. It is famous for its beautiful rocks of unusual shape. On the water near it stands a rock in the form of an arch, depicted on all postcards of Crimea, as well as the Swallow's Nest castle, which has become a symbol of Crimea - it is called both the Golden Gate and the Devil's Gate. Karadag arose on the site of an extinct volcano that was active as much as 150 million years ago. Its name is translated from Crimean Tatar as “black mountain”.
Once upon a time, when I was still a schoolgirl, the entrance to Karadag was free and you could walk there on your own; my mother and I walked there as children. But irresponsible tourists left behind a lot of garbage, and the staff of the Karadag reserve got tired of collecting it and taking it out in bags every day, and free passage to Karadag was closed, and it became possible to go only with a group tour with a guide - an employee of the reserve, it was forced and necessary a measure due to the lack of culture of our population. The only pity is that the excursion was made very short, and the entire route had to be practically run, since the guide walked very quickly, and there was no time to admire the beauty of nature and photograph it. It was a great pity, since the place is very beautiful and interesting, I wanted to stay in it longer and take photographs without haste.
You can take two excursions to Karadag: one on foot along the rocks, the second on a boat along the shore, looking at the same rocks from the sea. I advise you to take both excursions, both are equally interesting, and they look different from the land and from the sea, and the photographs will turn out different. Each excursion takes half a day, so you can combine them with swimming in the afternoon.
The ship departs for Karadag We sail to Karadag
passing the famous Golden Gate of Karadag overboard
A visit to Karadag will leave an unforgettable impression for a lifetime. The landscapes are simply fantastic, somehow Martian, like from another planet. The place is very suitable for filming some science fiction films about other planets. And when you are traveling on a boat and these fantastic rocks float past you, it is an exciting sight. But photographs will tell it better than any words.
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